Tired.
Always tired. Always working.
Dean sighs. He twirls his bottle idly, almost letting it slip from his fingers. But not quite.
When did everything get so friggin' crazy?
Its dark in the room. The lamp on the desk casts a little circle of light on the books and the drink and Dean.
He puts his head in his hands and squeezes his eyes shut. Everything's coming up question marks lately. They have no leads, no clues, and no idea how everything turned from a bumpy ride to a friggin' train wreck.
When Dean lifts his eyes up again, Cas is standing there, peering out the window. Dean starts.
"I swear, you're gonna give me a heart attack," Dean growls.
"That would be unfortunate," Cas replies, still looking out into the darkness. He turns to Dean, his eyes still far away. Dean waits for him to break the silence. A cricket chirps outside the thin walls.
"Any news then, Wings?" Dean says, just to be saying something.
Cas opens his mouth but then shakes his head instead. "Nothing good," he answers.
Dean takes another swig. What a surprise.
Cas shuffles to the chair next to Dean. He draws it up to the table, unable to make eye contact. It's obvious that Cas has something on his mind. He never can just spit it out.
Dean pretends to go back to his work, ignoring Cas for the moment. He tries to absorb information from any of the research books lying open on the table, but its not making any sense really, and will someone shut that cricket up?
"Dean," Cas says after a long period of silence.
Dean looks away from the books and Cas finally makes eye contact. "What?" he asks. It's not as sharp as before.
Cas takes a long time to answer again. "I haven't been... around much lately."
Is this an apology, then? "Yeah, I think I've noticed that, Cas. I mean, me and Sam are grasping straws without you here to help."
Cas squints in confusion but then dismisses the look. "I have had work to do, and reasonable success. But being away made me realize that I miss-" Cas gestures hopelessly to the walls and the lamp and the books- "this." And to Dean.
Dean takes a moment to process. "Wait, so you miss crappy hotels and second-rate whiskey?" he jokes half-heartedly.
Cas huffs impatiently. "No, Dean. You know what I am referring to."
Dean swallows under that gaze. He glances away before answering. "Well, that's real sweet of you, Cas. It's nice to know that somebody appreciates us."
"No," Cas says. He's committed to this now and looks straight at Dean. "I don't mean Sam, though he is capable. I just mean you, Dean."
Dean looks up and blinks.
"I... miss you. When I'm not here." There. He said it. The words swirling in his head for so long, out loud. For the world to hear and, more importantly, for Dean to hear.
Dean takes a second to reply, and that second is long enough for Cas to regret it. He could just poof somewhere far away, right now, and not have to see Dean's confusion and then was a bad idea. He shouldn't have been so-
"I miss you too."
Cas almost can't hear it, it's so quiet. It slips out in a breath. And Dean, unbreakable Dean, awkwardly reaches out to Cas' hand on the desk and grabs it. It's a lifeline, a surety to see if this is what he can't hope it is.
Cas' hand slips into his and they fit together like they were meant for each other. Dean swallows and looks away but squeezes his hand and holds on tighter.
Cas smiles, a small smile. It's enough, though, they both know it's enough. Just enough.
And in the morning, if Sam notices that Dean's asleep on the table with his fingers intertwined with Cas', he doesn't say anything.